


Tales of a Bird who Fell in Love with a Corpse

by Bluephoenix669



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Abuse, Altered Mental States, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood, Dark Character, Death References, Dominance, Dubious Consent, Explicit Gore, Explicit Sexual Content, Foreplay, Gore, Graphic Description, HibaMuku, Hibari/Mukuro, Insanity, Katekyo Hitman Reborn - Freeform, Kissing, Kyoya Hibari/Dino Cavallone, Kyoya Hibari/Rokudo Mukuro, Light BDSM, Loss of Virginity, Love/Hate, M/M, Male Slash, Mental Instability, MukuHiba, Multi, Murder, Power Play, Rough Sex, Slash, Spiritual, Torture, Tragedy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence, Vongola Famiglia - Freeform, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:04:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluephoenix669/pseuds/Bluephoenix669
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of them was consumed by darkness, his mind destroying itself in a turmoil of insanity and revenge. The other was  an apathetic human being, whose sole purpose in life was to destroy everything, and whose feelings where encased deep down his heart. Their rivalry started with an emotion close to hatred, deep with passionate anger. Something intense that slowly developed into a feeling whose utterance was forbidden between them, but that slowly and surely trapped them in the vortex of a lethal, dangerous and wicked relationship. <br/>Dark Themes. Hibari Kyoya x Rokudo Mukuro (TYL!1869).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales of a Bird who Fell in Love with a Corpse

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone. This is my first work here on Archive of our Own, and I'm very excited about it. This story is published in Fanfiction.net under this same title and by this same author name, so if you want to check it out too, you're more than welcome. I have noticed the little quantity of 1869 fanfics out there and I gave myself the task of contributing at least a little grain of sand for the sake of the couple (oh, so beautiful and creepy couple). I hope that everyone enjoyed it the same way I enjoyed creating this little baby. Comments, reviews, criticism etc. would be very much appreciated and welcome. This work was beta-read by an awesome girl named Death_Scimitar, if you have time, go check her profile at FF.net. She rocks!
> 
> Thank you in advance and enjoy your reading!

_**The bird flies across the sky, searching** _

_**The bird lands on the cross of a graveyard, searching** _

_**Its eyes fixed on the earth, and in the beautiful corpse impregnated with death** _

_**And upon seeing it, the bird fell in love at first sight…** _

_**Fell in love with the corroded corpse that in its stillness and death,** _

_**Offered the bird the means of eternal blessedness.** _

* * *

It was correct to say it didn't take much to annoy Hibari Kyoya; a single misplaced look or misspelled word was enough. It was primarily because said man always seemed to carry with him the eternal flame of an endless anger, always burning softly and in constant search for something, anything to feed its hellish fury.

It was equally correct to say anyone who dared to instigate the raging anger within the young man was a) extremely stupid, or b) extremely confident in his or her abilities. Or perhaps, to be honest, a combination of both factors.

And of course, it was  _utterly correct_ to assume that, once the potentially deadly and hellish anger of said was unleashed, there was no man or saint of divine entity capable of safeguarding the physical and/or mental stability of the poor bastard trapped in the clutches of his cruel and volatile temperament.

That was why Sawada Tsunayoshi  _knew_ he was, literally and figuratively,  _screwed._

Although the knowledge of that terrifying factor didn't impress him so much. Ten years of enduring the physical and psychological strain of being the leader of the most renowned  _mafia_ family in the world had helped him harden his wimpy and pathetic attitude into something _honorable._ Now he didn't flinch or even grow nervous at the prospect of starting a conversation with his Cloud Guardian.

_But, it is a difficult situation._

He only prayed to whoever was up there that he could inform his request to the guardian before his office turned into a battlefield. Although, sincerely, he wasn't so optimistic.

At least he wished Hibari would contain himself enough to hear him out. He wasn't in the mood to fight, much less interested in destroying his beloved office.

So, standing at full height and with a serene face that concealed the tumultuous feeling he was experiencing, Tsuna greeted his guest who stormed into his office with his usual rough elegance.

Doors slammed behind him; his tall and imposing figure filling the room with a chilly aura. He was dressed impeccably with his black suit and black tie, not a single strand of ebony black hair out of place. The features of his pale face hardened, his icy gray eyes watching the poor Tsuna with cold defiance.

Tsuna sighed slightly, feeling suddenly too tired to deal with  _oh so many_ complicated situations. But he was the boss, and it was his job to dealing with all kinds of situations and look for favorable answers without sacrificing the peace or the health of his guardians in the process.

Hibari was quick to inquire about the sudden call, his tone dripping annoyance.

And although the years and the experiences had certainly strengthened Tsuna's soul, the ominous feeling of dread that crept inside him was unquestionable, unavoidable.

_Oh, fuck it, he_  finally thought. _Sooner or later he will find out and hell would break loose. So why avoid the inevitable?_

Showing a seriousness only used on important matters, Tsuna explained to the man before him the urgent commission he was going to bestow upon him, wearily noting every word that escaped his lips caused Hibari's eyes to narrow more and more dangerously.

And, as expected, once he finished stating the mission the first thing that Hibari spoke was a flat and hard "No," supported by his usual argument of, "I have no time for stupid missions."

Yes, because when something didn't involve blood, pain and/or several broken or severed limbs, Hibari automatically labeled it as a stupid mission. And because Tsuna already  _knew_ the answer on Hibari's side, he decided to play  _dirty._

\- Ah, what a shame, Hibari-san. And here I thought that you would be delighted to assist me in the liberation of Rokudo Mukuro. I needed someone to accompany me to the Vendicare prison to retrieve him, but since you refused I will recruit some other Guardian instead.-

Key phrase: Rokudo Mukuro.

Tsuna always marveled at the innate ability Hibari possessed that allowed him to change the expressions of his face so radically in just few milliseconds. From annoyance to some kind of angered and passionate glance, so strange in the usually stoic guy, that for a moment Tsuna pondered whether or not he was actually doing the correct thing.

Because there was a "fire" dancing in those eyes, a distortion in those pale lips, and an expression so fierce, so feral, and so predatory… that it was intimidating.

Tsuna partially understood it, mainly because he had seen that same expression before. That same, ravenous and angered expression, always directed at the same man…

… Always for Rokudo Mukuro.

For Tsuna, it was as if he perceived the anxiety of a predator hidden within the depths of Hibari's eyes. The anxiety of a predator that was eager at the mere prospect of finally having the blood and flesh of his most desired prey between his teeth.

Knowing this, Tsuna was very patient in explaining everything relevant to the case to Hibari; all the paperwork he had to process, all the favors he had collected, and all the money he had spent so finally, after almost ten years of hard work, the Vendicare jailers had come to understand that they were dealing with the head of a powerful family, not with a spineless little runt.

With the same calm and collected patience, he told the man before him that his only duty would be to serve as reinforcement in case any type of problem develops. Because they were dealing with  _Mukuro._ The same Mukuro who constantly threatened Tsuna, constantly plotted against the mafia, and constantly caused chaos around him.'

While, personally, Tsuna considered the illusionist someone "amiable", he certainly understood the man was a psychotic bastard, and the twisted personality he possessed surely would have worsened after all those years in confinement, rendering him as someone unpredictable and dangerous.

That was why he needed Hibari. Because he  _knew_ if something went out of control with Mukuro, Hibari would be able to manage him without causing havoc.

Although maybe, they were in so "good terms" with each other, that Tsuna wasn't sure if instead of avoiding a disaster, they would be causing one.

He wasn't surprised to hear the curt, "I accept," from Hibari seconds after the last explanation of the mission left his lips.

It was something he predicted… that he expected. But it was something that didn't bring comfort to his troubled head.

Because Tsuna  _knew_ the acceptance was influenced by that grotesque emotion within Hibari's soul: vengeance. Pure, dark and passionate vengeance. The same emotion that settled within his mind ten years ago when Rokudo Mukuro defeated him and swept the floor with his body and his pride, leaving him with anger and shame and an  _oh so intense_ desire of vengeance.

He just hoped, prayed, that nothing bad will happen between them. Because he could permit insults between them, fights and threats, but he didn't want them to kill each other. He appreciated both of them, and they were part of his beloved family.

Clearing his thoughts and nodding more to himself than to the man in front of him, Tsuna handed Hibari his airplane ticket and told him to be prepared within two hours to depart. He saw the curt nod the man gave him and how he left; doors bolting behind him.

Sighing, Tsuna's tired amber eyes focused on the ceiling, in his mind the nice image of a vacation in a beach, with a good drink in hand and without all the stressful situations that came with being the boss of the Vongola  _famiglia._

\- Ah, glorious dreams…- he muttered, somewhat melancholically; focusing his eyes once again in the row of papers piled in his desk.

Always permeating in his mind the nagging feeling this whole affair would end in a bloody, tragic mess.

* * *

Hibari Kyoya wasn't a patient man.

Smart? Of course.

Dedicated? Absolutely.

Powerful? Without doubt.

Patient? Never.

He certainly knew his lack of patience was one of his greatest faults, but he wasn't remotely interested in changing that aspect of himself. Mainly because, combined with his sour mood and his inclination towards violence, his lack of patience gave him a powerful tool that helped him get away with anything he desired.

And because Hibari Kyoya wasn't a patient man, he was itching to have his hands around the neck of Sawada for his tardiness.

Well, to be more honest, he was itching to have his hands around  _someone, anyone._

He was poisoned by anxiety, by rage and… eagerness. Poison ran along his body, turning on the gears in his head, transforming his blood to fire, fire fueled by curses and hatred, passionate anger and the desire of vengeance and murder.

For him, waiting was torture. An aberration, something unthinkable.

That was why, hours later, sitting in one of the exclusive first class seats of a luxurious jet, property of the Vongola's, with a fidgety Sawada by his side, Hibari was completely unnerved. Finger repeatedly hit the armrest of his seat, his frustration becoming more and more prominent with every wasted second.

The maddening urge he had, the one that wanted to finally arrive at their destination, was too powerful to be ignored. He wanted to step out of the plane and just stand in front of Rokudo Mukuro's cell.

His fingers twitched spasmodically, fist constricting and relaxing. In his mind the image of those same fingers closing tightly around the illusionist's neck offered some peace to his turbulent mind.

Oh, how he wished to see him! Strangle him; mangle him, and destroy everything about that accursed man until only broken bones and bloody flesh remained.

How he wished to finally make Rokudo pay for all the humiliation, the broken bones, and shattered pride he bestow upon him those many years ago. Return every blow… make him bleed, and cry, and beg.

Oh, how he longed for the rich, crimson blood and the screams of agony of one Rokudo Mukuro!

Internally, Hibari knew the grotesque excitement that coursed through his veins wasn't normal. He knew it was more like an obsession, a dangerous obsession that sooner or later would swerve out of control and out of his grasp.

But he didn't care at the moment, because he was so determined to finally obtain his revenge. He didn't care, even when the voice of reason inside him whispered the great mistake he made when he accepted Sawada's offer and stepped on that plane. He didn't listen. He didn't  _want_ to listen. He knew that he had to pay attention to his reason and not to his impulses, but was so difficult when dealing with that damned illusionist.

Internally, he admitted all would have been easier if he had answered with a simple, "No," to Sawada's request. He wouldn't be here, swallowing in anger and depredatory excitement.

But he was a carnivore and the prey was there, ready to be taken, slaughtered, and consumed. Reason was worthless when the smell of the desired prey's blood flared in your nostrils.

And Rokudo was  _his._ He was the only one with the right to claim him, destroy him, humiliate him, and kill him. The powerful illusionist was going to be trapped… and he would make him pay.

He needed to settle this once and for all. He needed to beat Rokudo for the sake of his mind. Only with the illusionist defeated, would he be able to obtain the peace that was stolen from him. He would beat him and then he would forget about him… labeling him as another herbivore among millions.

Or at least, that was what he wanted.

But with Rokudo Mukuro, nothing was easy.

_It would have been so much easier if I had just refused Sawada's offer…_

\- Goddamit, - he muttered, the frown in the corners of his pale lips increasing.

Yes, it would have been so easier.

* * *

_Hideous._

That was the first word that crossed Hibari's mind the moment his feet touched the gloomy, dark tiled floor deep inside the Vendicare prison.

The long, dark and endless corridors were hideous. The countless rows of cells adorning the halls, built in stone and barred with iron were hideous. The heart-stopping cries and maddened shouts of anger, terror and agony sprouting from those cells were hideous. The faceless guardians looming in the darkest corners of the prison, with pitch black clothes and pitch black souls were hideous.

_Everything_  was hideous.

A grim and shitty place that interested Hibari for the sole reason that in the same bizarre place, locked up for over ten years in one of those pesky cells, was his most hated rival.

Beside him, Sawada was a mass of nerves and fidgeting, stealing furtive glances every now and then around the place; mistrust, horror and uncertainty clear in his amber orbs.

Soon, the cells were left behind. Both of them were guided downstairs by one of the Vendicare jailers whom silently led them along more corridors, endless stairs and dark rooms… down, down, deep down to a place where the most powerful and psychotic assassins where kept.

Just when his patience began to ebb away, the stunning iron gate of the final destination loomed meters ahead, located in a dark aisle.

\- Where are we?- Sawada questioned, an air of anxiety in his otherwise composed voice.

\- Lowest level of the prison. Chamber #0069, - the jailer stoically answered.

The corridor was abnormally cold; at least that was what Hibari felt. More than the characteristic coldness, there was something in the air, something radiating from those brick walls that was intense, almost painful. A feeling that slipped inside the body and sent tremors to the spine… an emotion closely familiar to being touched by Death.

Hibari grudgingly admitted the poor knowledge he had about what to expect at the other side of that door. Therefore, nothing prepared him to the grotesque image that filled his eyes the instant the guard opened the door of the chamber.

Somewhere to his left, he heard a guttural shriek escaping Sawada's lips and somewhere to his right he heard the dispassionate words the jailer began to say, but he paid little attention to both of them; all his senses utterly fixed on the scene before him.

Dark grey eyes glared intently at the tall and huge glass cylinder hanging precariously from the ceiling through a complex system of anchors and heavy chains… inside, floating like a weightless feather in a greenish and unrecognizable substance, the half naked body of Rokudo Mukuro.

Hs body curved in a slight fetal position, wrapped in fine white shreds of cloth with chains coiling around his body in a near-death embrace. Needles pierced through the delicate skin of his neck and his bony wrists were imprisoned with heavy shackles. His face was deathly white, partially covered by a dark mask, eyes closed and tightly bound with white stripes that appeared to be sewn to his eyelids.

And the hair... long, deep blue tresses floated everywhere, hiding his face, wrapping slightly around the chains and the tubes, giving him an almost god-like beauty.

_Weak._

That was the first word Hibari's mind was able to conjure with such an image. A simple word that almost instantaneously was replaced when another one crossed his mind in a flash without conscious thought.

_Fascinating._

He devoted the following minutes to observing from a prudent distance the way the spectral guardian of Vendicare triggered the mechanisms of disclosure, emptying the liquid contents inside the crystal chamber. The figure of the unconscious illusionist leaned slightly against the glass, needles shed with a violent tug, and all the metal of the chains fell at the feet of his slumped body.

Almost instantly the chamber was opened and the jailer's spidery fingers grabbed a handful of dark blue hair, yanking violently and withdrawing the body from its place to rudely throw it across the cold, dark floor. The harsh sound of skin and bones colliding with hard tile resonated through the entire place. The figure laid unmoving, blue tresses scattered everywhere.

Not seconds after that an indignant shout from Sawada echoed in the room, accompanied by a string of stinging remarks and accusations towards the impassible jailer.

\- Don't worry about him. He won't wake up for a while. Powerful sedatives were given to him, - the jailer offered as the only explanation, sliding silently towards the exit afterwards.

Hibari wasn't particularly scandalized by the treatment given to Rokudo. After all, he was a prisoner, not some tourist.

And besides, it wasn't as if he was going to die just for a few blows.

In order to ebb away from the confrontation (or rather, distressed monologue) between Sawada and the jailer, Hibari closed the distance between the unmoving illusionist and himself. Not without some stiffness, he picked him up bridal style, noticing almost instantly how little weight the other body carried.

And while it was true that a part of him seriously  _ **despised**_ having the body of his most hated enemy in his arms, another part secretly rejoiced by the same act. For indeed, there was something extremely satisfying in the knowledge of having the broken and weak body of Rokudo Mukuro within his grasp.

Little, pathetically dependent Mukuro. Fragile as glass, exposed to everything… completely defenseless like a doe in an open savanna.

And while the arguing  _still_ carried on between the people in front of him, Hibari devoted the few moments of peace he had to wander his eyes over the body in his arms.

Ten years had passed since the last time he saw this man in the flesh. Although it was true in a lot of occasions that same man used his subordinate, the little herbivore, Chrome Dokuro, to manifest himself; it was always an illusion. One thing was seeing an illusion… and another thing was to see  _what was behind that illusion._

And certainly, the man in his arms wasn't the Rokudo Mukuro he was accustomed to seeing. This creature wasn't a teenager; he was a complete adult just like him. An adult of considerable height and light toned body, whose androgynous face was thin and skillfully sculpted with high cheekbones, delicate chin, thin lips and almond shaped orbs.

Although Hibari wasn't the type that uttered importance to beauty; he admitted there was handsomeness in Rokudo Mukuro. A strange and dangerous kind of fairness that served more as a weapon than as a physical attribute. Bewitching and extremely dangerous in his alluring nature and fatal in his subtle but powerful seduction.

This man was someone so radically different from the man Hibari learned to hate all those years ago. But he was Rokudo Mukuro. He was the damned man that had humiliated him. Hibari would always recognize him… it didn't matter the changes. He would be capable of recognize him even if he transferred his soul to another body, or even in another life. So intense was his obsession with him.

The sudden ringing of Sawada's tired voice echoed though his mind, announced it was time to leave and effectively pulled him out of his observations; everything stored in a space of his memory for later use.

From that moment on, everything was a blur of constant motion and constant action on where endless hours were consumed. Leaving Vendicare, boarding the plane, and flying from one country to another to finally reach the long- awaited homeland and setting foot on the familiarity the Vongola headquarters offered.

All the while, his eyes never left the unconscious form of Rokudo Mukuro and his arms always were full of him; carrying him to the plane, placing him on a stretcher, taking him from that same stretcher into his arms and finally, transferring his body from his arms to the bed in the Vongola medical facilities.

And even when the slight heat of the illusionist body left his arms, even when Rokudo's face got blocked from sight by the mass of nurses and doctors that came to assist him, and even when Sawada took him out of the room to properly thank him for the help and inform him of another assigned mission; the thoughts of that damned illusionist were impossible to erase from his mind.

He couldn't erase his image even when he proceeded to take on his daily routine, even when he feasted over some  _herbivores_  and bit them to death, even when he engrossed himself in discussions of different natures with the other Guardians…

… and even when, in the darkest hour of night, Dino Cavallone appeared at his door with a small smile and a bottle of wine.

There was a moment of distraction in the instant he silently accepted the offer of the older male and took him roughly by the lips, tangling their bodies and falling in the fresh made bed in a fiery display of energy and pent up frustration. Hands touched with primitive desire of carnal pleasure, bodies moved violently against each other, fueled by adrenaline and the desire to feel  _something._ Anything.

But when they finally ended their fucking session, the distraction was gone and the thoughts came back, assaulting his mind with more viciousness. Lying on his back in the rumpled sheets smelling of sweat and sex with someone else lying contentedly at his side, his thoughts focused more and more… memories resurfaced, flooding his tormented head with more thoughts and more anger.

Thoughts focused solely on the desire to see Rokudo Mukuro's eyes open, and thereby ensure him that this was the man he wanted to destroy and not some illusion.

Scenarios one more bloody than the other, in which both fought and spilled blood… Oh, how he wanted to  _bite him to death_!

Thoughts that came and went, all with the same burning desire. He wanted to make him suffer, but at the same time, he wanted to suffer. Have a real battle, feeling real pain… reactivate his carnivore tendencies that for so many years had been asleep.

And then the thoughts became images… detailed and mind-wrenching.

Memories of a thin chiseled face, of pale lips wearing a sadistic grin; mismatched eyes focused on him, shining with an almost sensual wickedness.

Memories of a slender body in his arms, pale and cold flesh, eyelids closed, peaceful expression, deep blue hair swaying back and forth with every movement, touching slightly the tiled floor.

Weak, so weak. And at the same time so powerful and fascinating in his damned and wicked beauty.

Evil… alluring and mad. His body in his hands, ready to be broken.

One of his hands went to his face, fingers clutching his forehead; anger pronouncing itself in the corners of his lips.

\- Are you okay?-

The question, asked by a concerned Dino, startled him slightly.

_No, I'm not._

_-_ I'm fine. You shouldn't be here, Cavallone. You got what you wanted; now get out of my house,- Hibari muttered, his sharp grey eyes watching the blonde man beside him.

\- Mah, mah. Why did you always throw me out after sex? Let me stay with you… I want to cuddle a little, - Dino exclaimed, rising from the bed and rescuing his dark boxers from the top of the lamp on the bedside table.

\- Go to hell, Cavallone. Now get out if you don't want me to bite you to death.-

\- Why are you always so aggressive? Ok, ok… I'll go. - Dino slowly began to button his pants, putting on his shirt with a little sad smile on his face.

Both of them stayed silent, Dino looking at Hibari and Hibari looking at the ceiling.

\- Do you have a problem, Kyoya? I could always help you if you…-

\- No. I don't have any problems. Now out, Cavallone. I want to sleep.-

The blonde sighed at the answer, apparently accustomed to that kind of treatment.

\- No goodnight kiss, Kyoya? - He teased, turning towards the door.

\- Go fuck yourself. - Was the curt answer and Dino chuckled, whispering a sad, "See you later," and exiting the bedroom.

_Idiot herbivore._

Hibari leaned more comfortably against the cushions and allowed his eyes to close.

In truth, he had lied to Cavallone, because he did have a problem. But he didn't want the other man involved in things that didn't concern him, nor did he think Cavallone would be pleased to know exactly what his problem was.

Because simply, his problem wasn't a situation… it was a person.

An accursed person named Rokudo Mukuro.

An angry growl escaped his lips, forehead wrinkling; fists tightening.

\- Dammit.-

_Oh, yes. Damn him._ The bird flies across the sky, searching

The bird lands on the cross of a graveyard, searching

Its eyes fixed on the earth, and in the beautiful corpse impregnated with death

And upon seeing it, the bird fell in love at first sight…

Fell in love with the corroded corpse that in its stillness and death,

Offered the bird the means of eternal blessedness.

It was correct to say it didn't take much to annoy Hibari Kyoya; a single misplaced look or misspelled word was enough. It was primarily because said man always seemed to carry with him the eternal flame of an endless anger, always burning softly and in constant search for something, anything to feed its hellish fury.

It was equally correct to say anyone who dared to instigate the raging anger within the young man was a) extremely stupid, or b) extremely confident in his or her abilities. Or perhaps, to be honest, a combination of both factors.

And of course, it was utterly correct to assume that, once the potentially deadly and hellish anger of said was unleashed, there was no man or saint of divine entity capable of safeguarding the physical and/or mental stability of the poor bastard trapped in the clutches of his cruel and volatile temperament.

That was why Sawada Tsunayoshi knew he was, literally and figuratively, screwed.

Although the knowledge of that terrifying factor didn't impress him so much. Ten years of enduring the physical and psychological strain of being the leader of the most renowned mafia family in the world had helped him harden his wimpy and pathetic attitude into something honorable. Now he didn't flinch or even grow nervous at the prospect of starting a conversation with his Cloud Guardian.

But, it is a difficult situation.

He only prayed to whoever was up there that he could inform his request to the guardian before his office turned into a battlefield. Although, sincerely, he wasn't so optimistic.

At least he wished Hibari would contain himself enough to hear him out. He wasn't in the mood to fight, much less interested in destroying his beloved office.

So, standing at full height and with a serene face that concealed the tumultuous feeling he was experiencing, Tsuna greeted his guest who stormed into his office with his usual rough elegance.

Doors slammed behind him; his tall and imposing figure filling the room with a chilly aura. He was dressed impeccably with his black suit and black tie, not a single strand of ebony black hair out of place. The features of his pale face hardened, his icy gray eyes watching the poor Tsuna with cold defiance.

Tsuna sighed slightly, feeling suddenly too tired to deal with oh so many complicated situations. But he was the boss, and it was his job to dealing with all kinds of situations and look for favorable answers without sacrificing the peace or the health of his guardians in the process.

Hibari was quick to inquire about the sudden call, his tone dripping annoyance.

And although the years and the experiences had certainly strengthened Tsuna's soul, the ominous feeling of dread that crept inside him was unquestionable, unavoidable.

Oh, fuck it, he finally thought. Sooner or later he will find out and hell would break loose. So why avoid the inevitable?

Showing a seriousness only used on important matters, Tsuna explained to the man before him the urgent commission he was going to bestow upon him, wearily noting every word that escaped his lips caused Hibari's eyes to narrow more and more dangerously.

And, as expected, once he finished stating the mission the first thing that Hibari spoke was a flat and hard "No," supported by his usual argument of, "I have no time for stupid missions."

Yes, because when something didn't involve blood, pain and/or several broken or severed limbs, Hibari automatically labeled it as a stupid mission. And because Tsuna already knew the answer on Hibari's side, he decided to play dirty.

\- Ah, what a shame, Hibari-san. And here I thought that you would be delighted to assist me in the liberation of Rokudo Mukuro. I needed someone to accompany me to the Vendicare prison to retrieve him, but since you refused I will recruit some other Guardian instead.-

Key phrase: Rokudo Mukuro.

Tsuna always marveled at the innate ability Hibari possessed that allowed him to change the expressions of his face so radically in just few milliseconds. From annoyance to some kind of angered and passionate glance, so strange in the usually stoic guy, that for a moment Tsuna pondered whether or not he was actually doing the correct thing.

Because there was a "fire" dancing in those eyes, a distortion in those pale lips, and an expression so fierce, so feral, and so predatory… that it was intimidating.

Tsuna partially understood it, mainly because he had seen that same expression before. That same, ravenous and angered expression, always directed at the same man…

… Always for Rokudo Mukuro.

For Tsuna, it was as if he perceived the anxiety of a predator hidden within the depths of Hibari's eyes. The anxiety of a predator that was eager at the mere prospect of finally having the blood and flesh of his most desired prey between his teeth.

Knowing this, Tsuna was very patient in explaining everything relevant to the case to Hibari; all the paperwork he had to process, all the favors he had collected, and all the money he had spent so finally, after almost ten years of hard work, the Vendicare jailers had come to understand that they were dealing with the head of a powerful family, not with a spineless little runt.

With the same calm and collected patience, he told the man before him that his only duty would be to serve as reinforcement in case any type of problem develops. Because they were dealing with Mukuro. The same Mukuro who constantly threatened Tsuna, constantly plotted against the mafia, and constantly caused chaos around him.'

While, personally, Tsuna considered the illusionist someone "amiable", he certainly understood the man was a psychotic bastard, and the twisted personality he possessed surely would have worsened after all those years in confinement, rendering him as someone unpredictable and dangerous.

That was why he needed Hibari. Because he knew if something went out of control with Mukuro, Hibari would be able to manage him without causing havoc.

Although maybe, they were in so "good terms" with each other, that Tsuna wasn't sure if instead of avoiding a disaster, they would be causing one.

He wasn't surprised to hear the curt, "I accept," from Hibari seconds after the last explanation of the mission left his lips.

It was something he predicted… that he expected. But it was something that didn't bring comfort to his troubled head.

Because Tsuna knew the acceptance was influenced by that grotesque emotion within Hibari's soul: vengeance. Pure, dark and passionate vengeance. The same emotion that settled within his mind ten years ago when Rokudo Mukuro defeated him and swept the floor with his body and his pride, leaving him with anger and shame and an oh so intense desire of vengeance.

He just hoped, prayed, that nothing bad will happen between them. Because he could permit insults between them, fights and threats, but he didn't want them to kill each other. He appreciated both of them, and they were part of his beloved family.

Clearing his thoughts and nodding more to himself than to the man in front of him, Tsuna handed Hibari his airplane ticket and told him to be prepared within two hours to depart. He saw the curt nod the man gave him and how he left; doors bolting behind him.

Sighing, Tsuna's tired amber eyes focused on the ceiling, in his mind the nice image of a vacation in a beach, with a good drink in hand and without all the stressful situations that came with being the boss of the Vongola famiglia.

\- Ah, glorious dreams…- he muttered, somewhat melancholically; focusing his eyes once again in the row of papers piled in his desk.

Always permeating in his mind the nagging feeling this whole affair would end in a bloody, tragic mess.

Hibari Kyoya wasn't a patient man.

Smart? Of course.

Dedicated? Absolutely.

Powerful? Without doubt.

Patient? Never.

He certainly knew his lack of patience was one of his greatest faults, but he wasn't remotely interested in changing that aspect of himself. Mainly because, combined with his sour mood and his inclination towards violence, his lack of patience gave him a powerful tool that helped him get away with anything he desired.

And because Hibari Kyoya wasn't a patient man, he was itching to have his hands around the neck of Sawada for his tardiness.

Well, to be more honest, he was itching to have his hands around someone, anyone.

He was poisoned by anxiety, by rage and… eagerness. Poison ran along his body, turning on the gears in his head, transforming his blood to fire, fire fueled by curses and hatred, passionate anger and the desire of vengeance and murder.

For him, waiting was torture. An aberration, something unthinkable.

That was why, hours later, sitting in one of the exclusive first class seats of a luxurious jet, property of the Vongola's, with a fidgety Sawada by his side, Hibari was completely unnerved. Finger repeatedly hit the armrest of his seat, his frustration becoming more and more prominent with every wasted second.

The maddening urge he had, the one that wanted to finally arrive at their destination, was too powerful to be ignored. He wanted to step out of the plane and just stand in front of Rokudo Mukuro's cell.

His fingers twitched spasmodically, fist constricting and relaxing. In his mind the image of those same fingers closing tightly around the illusionist's neck offered some peace to his turbulent mind.

Oh, how he wished to see him! Strangle him; mangle him, and destroy everything about that accursed man until only broken bones and bloody flesh remained.

How he wished to finally make Rokudo pay for all the humiliation, the broken bones, and shattered pride he bestow upon him those many years ago. Return every blow… make him bleed, and cry, and beg.

Oh, how he longed for the rich, crimson blood and the screams of agony of one Rokudo Mukuro!

Internally, Hibari knew the grotesque excitement that coursed through his veins wasn't normal. He knew it was more like an obsession, a dangerous obsession that sooner or later would swerve out of control and out of his grasp.

But he didn't care at the moment, because he was so determined to finally obtain his revenge. He didn't care, even when the voice of reason inside him whispered the great mistake he made when he accepted Sawada's offer and stepped on that plane. He didn't listen. He didn't want to listen. He knew that he had to pay attention to his reason and not to his impulses, but was so difficult when dealing with that damned illusionist.

Internally, he admitted all would have been easier if he had answered with a simple, "No," to Sawada's request. He wouldn't be here, swallowing in anger and depredatory excitement.

But he was a carnivore and the prey was there, ready to be taken, slaughtered, and consumed. Reason was worthless when the smell of the desired prey's blood flared in your nostrils.

And Rokudo was his. He was the only one with the right to claim him, destroy him, humiliate him, and kill him. The powerful illusionist was going to be trapped… and he would make him pay.

He needed to settle this once and for all. He needed to beat Rokudo for the sake of his mind. Only with the illusionist defeated, would he be able to obtain the peace that was stolen from him. He would beat him and then he would forget about him… labeling him as another herbivore among millions.

Or at least, that was what he wanted.

But with Rokudo Mukuro, nothing was easy.

It would have been so much easier if I had just refused Sawada's offer…

\- Goddamit, - he muttered, the frown in the corners of his pale lips increasing.

Yes, it would have been so easier.

Hideous.

That was the first word that crossed Hibari's mind the moment his feet touched the gloomy, dark tiled floor deep inside the Vendicare prison.

The long, dark and endless corridors were hideous. The countless rows of cells adorning the halls, built in stone and barred with iron were hideous. The heart-stopping cries and maddened shouts of anger, terror and agony sprouting from those cells were hideous. The faceless guardians looming in the darkest corners of the prison, with pitch black clothes and pitch black souls were hideous.

Everything was hideous.

A grim and shitty place that interested Hibari for the sole reason that in the same bizarre place, locked up for over ten years in one of those pesky cells, was his most hated rival.

Beside him, Sawada was a mass of nerves and fidgeting, stealing furtive glances every now and then around the place; mistrust, horror and uncertainty clear in his amber orbs.

Soon, the cells were left behind. Both of them were guided downstairs by one of the Vendicare jailers whom silently led them along more corridors, endless stairs and dark rooms… down, down, deep down to a place where the most powerful and psychotic assassins where kept.

Just when his patience began to ebb away, the stunning iron gate of the final destination loomed meters ahead, located in a dark aisle.

\- Where are we?- Sawada questioned, an air of anxiety in his otherwise composed voice.

\- Lowest level of the prison. Chamber #0069, - the jailer stoically answered.

The corridor was abnormally cold; at least that was what Hibari felt. More than the characteristic coldness, there was something in the air, something radiating from those brick walls that was intense, almost painful. A feeling that slipped inside the body and sent tremors to the spine… an emotion closely familiar to being touched by Death.

Hibari grudgingly admitted the poor knowledge he had about what to expect at the other side of that door. Therefore, nothing prepared him to the grotesque image that filled his eyes the instant the guard opened the door of the chamber.

Somewhere to his left, he heard a guttural shriek escaping Sawada's lips and somewhere to his right he heard the dispassionate words the jailer began to say, but he paid little attention to both of them; all his senses utterly fixed on the scene before him.

Dark grey eyes glared intently at the tall and huge glass cylinder hanging precariously from the ceiling through a complex system of anchors and heavy chains… inside, floating like a weightless feather in a greenish and unrecognizable substance, the half naked body of Rokudo Mukuro.

Hs body curved in a slight fetal position, wrapped in fine white shreds of cloth with chains coiling around his body in a near-death embrace. Needles pierced through the delicate skin of his neck and his bony wrists were imprisoned with heavy shackles. His face was deathly white, partially covered by a dark mask, eyes closed and tightly bound with white stripes that appeared to be sewn to his eyelids.

And the hair... long, deep blue tresses floated everywhere, hiding his face, wrapping slightly around the chains and the tubes, giving him an almost god-like beauty.

Weak.

That was the first word Hibari's mind was able to conjure with such an image. A simple word that almost instantaneously was replaced when another one crossed his mind in a flash without conscious thought.

Fascinating.

He devoted the following minutes to observing from a prudent distance the way the spectral guardian of Vendicare triggered the mechanisms of disclosure, emptying the liquid contents inside the crystal chamber. The figure of the unconscious illusionist leaned slightly against the glass, needles shed with a violent tug, and all the metal of the chains fell at the feet of his slumped body.

Almost instantly the chamber was opened and the jailer's spidery fingers grabbed a handful of dark blue hair, yanking violently and withdrawing the body from its place to rudely throw it across the cold, dark floor. The harsh sound of skin and bones colliding with hard tile resonated through the entire place. The figure laid unmoving, blue tresses scattered everywhere.

Not seconds after that an indignant shout from Sawada echoed in the room, accompanied by a string of stinging remarks and accusations towards the impassible jailer.

\- Don't worry about him. He won't wake up for a while. Powerful sedatives were given to him, - the jailer offered as the only explanation, sliding silently towards the exit afterwards.

Hibari wasn't particularly scandalized by the treatment given to Rokudo. After all, he was a prisoner, not some tourist.

And besides, it wasn't as if he was going to die just for a few blows.

In order to ebb away from the confrontation (or rather, distressed monologue) between Sawada and the jailer, Hibari closed the distance between the unmoving illusionist and himself. Not without some stiffness, he picked him up bridal style, noticing almost instantly how little weight the other body carried.

And while it was true that a part of him seriously despisedhaving the body of his most hated enemy in his arms, another part secretly rejoiced by the same act. For indeed, there was something extremely satisfying in the knowledge of having the broken and weak body of Rokudo Mukuro within his grasp.

Little, pathetically dependent Mukuro. Fragile as glass, exposed to everything… completely defenseless like a doe in an open savanna.

And while the arguing still carried on between the people in front of him, Hibari devoted the few moments of peace he had to wander his eyes over the body in his arms.

Ten years had passed since the last time he saw this man in the flesh. Although it was true in a lot of occasions that same man used his subordinate, the little herbivore, Chrome Dokuro, to manifest himself; it was always an illusion. One thing was seeing an illusion… and another thing was to see what was behind that illusion.

And certainly, the man in his arms wasn't the Rokudo Mukuro he was accustomed to seeing. This creature wasn't a teenager; he was a complete adult just like him. An adult of considerable height and light toned body, whose androgynous face was thin and skillfully sculpted with high cheekbones, delicate chin, thin lips and almond shaped orbs.

Although Hibari wasn't the type that uttered importance to beauty; he admitted there was handsomeness in Rokudo Mukuro. A strange and dangerous kind of fairness that served more as a weapon than as a physical attribute. Bewitching and extremely dangerous in his alluring nature and fatal in his subtle but powerful seduction.

This man was someone so radically different from the man Hibari learned to hate all those years ago. But he was Rokudo Mukuro. He was the damned man that had humiliated him. Hibari would always recognize him… it didn't matter the changes. He would be capable of recognize him even if he transferred his soul to another body, or even in another life. So intense was his obsession with him.

The sudden ringing of Sawada's tired voice echoed though his mind, announced it was time to leave and effectively pulled him out of his observations; everything stored in a space of his memory for later use.

From that moment on, everything was a blur of constant motion and constant action on where endless hours were consumed. Leaving Vendicare, boarding the plane, and flying from one country to another to finally reach the long- awaited homeland and setting foot on the familiarity the Vongola headquarters offered.

All the while, his eyes never left the unconscious form of Rokudo Mukuro and his arms always were full of him; carrying him to the plane, placing him on a stretcher, taking him from that same stretcher into his arms and finally, transferring his body from his arms to the bed in the Vongola medical facilities.

And even when the slight heat of the illusionist body left his arms, even when Rokudo's face got blocked from sight by the mass of nurses and doctors that came to assist him, and even when Sawada took him out of the room to properly thank him for the help and inform him of another assigned mission; the thoughts of that damned illusionist were impossible to erase from his mind.

He couldn't erase his image even when he proceeded to take on his daily routine, even when he feasted over some herbivores and bit them to death, even when he engrossed himself in discussions of different natures with the other Guardians…

… and even when, in the darkest hour of night, Dino Cavallone appeared at his door with a small smile and a bottle of wine.

There was a moment of distraction in the instant he silently accepted the offer of the older male and took him roughly by the lips, tangling their bodies and falling in the fresh made bed in a fiery display of energy and pent up frustration. Hands touched with primitive desire of carnal pleasure, bodies moved violently against each other, fueled by adrenaline and the desire to feel something. Anything.

But when they finally ended their fucking session, the distraction was gone and the thoughts came back, assaulting his mind with more viciousness. Lying on his back in the rumpled sheets smelling of sweat and sex with someone else lying contentedly at his side, his thoughts focused more and more… memories resurfaced, flooding his tormented head with more thoughts and more anger.

Thoughts focused solely on the desire to see Rokudo Mukuro's eyes open, and thereby ensure him that this was the man he wanted to destroy and not some illusion.

Scenarios one more bloody than the other, in which both fought and spilled blood… Oh, how he wanted to bite him to death!

Thoughts that came and went, all with the same burning desire. He wanted to make him suffer, but at the same time, he wanted to suffer. Have a real battle, feeling real pain… reactivate his carnivore tendencies that for so many years had been asleep.

And then the thoughts became images… detailed and mind-wrenching.

Memories of a thin chiseled face, of pale lips wearing a sadistic grin; mismatched eyes focused on him, shining with an almost sensual wickedness.

Memories of a slender body in his arms, pale and cold flesh, eyelids closed, peaceful expression, deep blue hair swaying back and forth with every movement, touching slightly the tiled floor.

Weak, so weak. And at the same time so powerful and fascinating in his damned and wicked beauty.

Evil… alluring and mad. His body in his hands, ready to be broken.

One of his hands went to his face, fingers clutching his forehead; anger pronouncing itself in the corners of his lips.

\- Are you okay?-

The question, asked by a concerned Dino, startled him slightly.

No, I'm not.

\- I'm fine. You shouldn't be here, Cavallone. You got what you wanted; now get out of my house,- Hibari muttered, his sharp grey eyes watching the blonde man beside him.

\- Mah, mah. Why did you always throw me out after sex? Let me stay with you… I want to cuddle a little, - Dino exclaimed, rising from the bed and rescuing his dark boxers from the top of the lamp on the bedside table.

\- Go to hell, Cavallone. Now get out if you don't want me to bite you to death.-

\- Why are you always so aggressive? Ok, ok… I'll go. - Dino slowly began to button his pants, putting on his shirt with a little sad smile on his face.

Both of them stayed silent, Dino looking at Hibari and Hibari looking at the ceiling.

\- Do you have a problem, Kyoya? I could always help you if you…-

\- No. I don't have any problems. Now out, Cavallone. I want to sleep.-

The blonde sighed at the answer, apparently accustomed to that kind of treatment.

\- No goodnight kiss, Kyoya? - He teased, turning towards the door.

\- Go fuck yourself. - Was the curt answer and Dino chuckled, whispering a sad, "See you later," and exiting the bedroom.

Idiot herbivore.

Hibari leaned more comfortably against the cushions and allowed his eyes to close.

In truth, he had lied to Cavallone, because he did have a problem. But he didn't want the other man involved in things that didn't concern him, nor did he think Cavallone would be pleased to know exactly what his problem was.

Because simply, his problem wasn't a situation… it was a person.

An accursed person named Rokudo Mukuro.

An angry growl escaped his lips, forehead wrinkling; fists tightening.

\- Dammit.-

Oh, yes. Damn him.


End file.
